|06/02/2012, 09:56 pm||#1|
Yes, Fact, it is KQ8...
Join Date: Jun 2011
This is more of an extension to this topic here but a little more specific.
Who would like to see a new guidebook by Derek Karlavaegen as a PDF or bonus item included with the boxed set of Telltale's new King's Quest game?
If anyone doesn't know who Derek is, he is an old explorer and wanderer who landed the Green Isles, nearly twenty years before KQ6. He wrote the Guidebook to the Land of the Green Isles, the manual and pack-in copyright protection for KQ6. This is the thing I wonder if they should create for telltale's KQ to have the feel of the early KQ games that had such manuals, with stories, etc.
He was in his Mid 30s to 40s at the time of Guidebook, and somewhere in his 50 to 60s around the time of KQ6.
I have put together a very detailed biography of him on the KQ wiki (including everything there is to know about his history, personality, and interactions with other KQ characters, and others);
Derek Karlavaegen's biography
The short version (but do please read the long version) is he wrote the Guidebook to the Land of the Green Isles, and decades later, went on to record the events of King's Quest 3, in an interview with Alexander. He moved into Manannan's house, a few weeks later, where he discovered the Eye Between the Worlds.
Prince Alexander's Own Story! Exclusive Interview
Eye Between the Worlds
The eye is a mechanical computer (perhaps built by Pope Sylvester or Manannan) that allowed him to send messages one way to 20th century Earth (he called it the Other World), in hopes that someone would discover them. The Eye was discovered in the bookshelves near Manannan's desk, and can be seen in the game, KQ3.
Later he recorded the events of KQ5, after visiting and interviewing King Graham. He gave Alexander a copy of the Guidebook to the Land of the Green Isles to help him learn about the kingdom before he got there (Alex lost the copy in the shipreck, but had memorized the Ancient Ones language and myths, allowing him to scale the cliffs, and make his way through the traps of the catacombs).
He was later invited to Alexander's wedding, and wrote the chronicle of KQ6 events to be placed in the archives of both kingdoms.
He is one of Alexander's closest friends (whom he respects and trusts deeply), and had been for a long time. He has spent much time hobnobing around in the royal courts of both kingdoms, and has deep respect for King Graham as well.
Last edited by BagginsKQ; 06/08/2012 at 08:15 pm.
|06/03/2012, 08:22 am||#3|
Yes, Fact, it is KQ8...
Join Date: Jun 2011
Screw Derek? Screw Peter Spear? You'll have to screw Jane Jensen and eluki bes shahar, too! As well as John Shroades and Mark Empey.
*Guidebook Writer: Jane Jensen
*Guidebook Illustration: John Shroades
*Guidebook Designer: Mark Empey
On second thought...
BTW, you didn't just screw Derek Karlavaegen... You probably had Mordack burn down the house around him in Infamous Adventures's KQ3 Considering based on the timing in your game for when Mordack burned the place down, and the timing of when Derek moved into the house, Derek would have already been living there!
Derek Karlavaegen is the 'writer' of the Guidebook to the Land of the Green Isles, a packin with KQ6. Partially to add background to the game, and to also act as a form of copy protection.
Derek Karlavaegen is even mentioned in the KQ6 Amiga version, in-game! The comment is in the files of the PC version as well. But not accessible!
Derek Karlavaegen was originally an inhabitant of the green hills of Daventry. Many years ago, when Derek Karlavaegen was in his youth with little need for a razor, and a determination to see the world and all its myriad wonders and phantasmagoria. He began wandering, astride, afoot, and afloat; he discovered all he wished and more. He discovered a need and liking to record all he met, saw and heard. It was then he also discovered others would pay, to experience through his writings, that which he experienced without the inconveniece of seasickness, biting bugs, hostile witches and enchanters, or bandits. For most, that way is more easy, more safe, than living through those things for themselves. He used what he earned to travel more, to experience more, and to write more.
 Shipwrecked in the Green Isles
One year, after Derek had traveled from Tamir, he took passage on a ship, the Round About bound east from from Port Bruce in Llewdor, his destination was Sovereignty of Serenia. On the second week out they encountered a terrible electrical storm. The ship became lost and off course. A month later, as Derek lay in a fitful sleep on his bunk - throat parched and skin stretched from the scant provisions allotted all hands from the near-empty hold below he heard the cry on deck "Land Ho!" Startled from his sleep and exhilarated with hope, he sprang to the deck. The sky had cleared and its blue seemed a hue he had never seen before. He could see a small body of land that was dimly visible. Yet within the hour, the curse upon our ship took its final vengeance. The the sea came alive and swirled around the ship. Currents and whirlpools materialized and sucked at the beaten planks of the ship - turning her first one way and then another! Derek was thrown against the deck and rolled uncontrollably against the cables and the lifeboats. The last thing he heard before his head was struck and blackness descended was the mate screaming "She's going Down!!!" All had perished except Derek Karlavaegen, and he barely.
Out of sheer luck, Derek awoke the following morning, not among the bones at the bottom of the sea, but on a beach. Of the crew and passengers of the good ship, there was not a trace. The sea had washed all of Derek's remaining youth out of him. Like an old beaten horse to lame to pull a load, he limped towards a distant village, only to collapse.  Derek had found the Land of the Green Isles, a place he had thought didn't exist. The Green Isles welcomed him warmly, fed, clothes, and healed his body. The women helped heal his fevered mind and shipwrecked soul. Once strong and well he was given the freedom to wander through as many islands and cultures as he wanted, and freedom to speak to all he might fancy.
 Exploring the Islands
At first he explored the village, where he was staying. Though little of his survived the shipwreck, the few trinkets that he had on his person or managed to salvage from the shore were deemed unusual enough in that distant realm to obtain a few necessities. He also found the villagers eager too share what they had in return for honest work, so he had survived quite comfortably there. Then he explored the docks, where he met the Ferryman, and his young son, Hassan.
Despite his status as a stranger Derek was granted a visit with the reigning king and queen of the Green Isles, Caliphim and Allaria. He met the king and queen in the castle's throne room. As a citizen of the larger, more dangerous world, it made him feel a little nervous and honor bound not to betray such trust in him. He met the king and queen in the castle's throne room. The throne room is a vast hall more ornate then anything his poor eyes had ever seen. Standing before the two thrones in that cavern of gold, he felt as though he stood before fabled Olympus itself. Yet, raising his eyes up slowly to those noble faces, he saw nothing of judgment in their eyes, nothing of disdain, indeed, their faces were full of kindness, welcome and kindness. Having met the royal couple and recovered sufficently from his ordeal at sea, he began to feel right curious about the other islands in the kingdom, and so he put his itching feet in the care of the jolly ferryman.
Derek travelled around the islands, first exploring the Isle of Wonder. Then he traveled to the Isle of Sacred Mountain. Two of the greeters met him at the base of the Cliffs of Logic. Gently, they took his arms and flew him upwards. He was flown to the Winged Ones city. He was completely dependent on the greeters to travel about the city as there are no connections between the edifice towers of the city. His reception with the Winged Ones was on the surface extremely polite, but the formal words of welcome did not ring true. They held a disdain for common humanity, a haughtiness that made them irksome to Derek. He learned of the Oracle, but was not allowed to meet her. While on the Island he found himself fascinated by the Ancient Ones. He researched the race from what he could get from the closed-mouthed Winged Ones, and later from writings of scholars on the Isle of the Crown. He spent some time studying the language and culture of the Ancient Ones. He examined the ancient culture's artifacts including the Cliffs of Logic which had not been solved by any alive at the time, and the the gates to the catacombs which were inaccessible to visitors at the time as a minitaur had taken up residence inside some years before. Soon he continued his exploration to the Isle of the Beast, but he did not see much of the place since obstacles made it impossible to travel far inland. He learned what he could of its history from others.
Through long nights spent before the fire with his companions on the Isle of the Crown, he learned of the Green Islanders myths and legends. He learned of the Isle of Mysts, the Edge of the World, the Realm of the Dead, and even of genies. He had been well treated on the islands and had become rich in friends, knowledge and in countless other blessings. Often, and freely, he was granted audience with the land's king and queen, Caliphim and Allaria. They spoke much of the Green Isles, and he of the rest of the Daventry.
 Return to Serenia
In the evenings, he began composing a guidebook to their lands, refining it during the months of his stay. Though he found his spirit forlorn at times with his inability to travel on, though his feet had itched less there than anywhere else in the wide world (for it had stolen his heart). Still on occasion, he found his mind roving back to the green hills of Daventry. He hoped, if his spirit at least was allowed to roam free, he would see them again. He continued to feel melancholy for the places and people, he knew well, but resigned to spend his life hidden away from them, never to return home again. Although some of his mood, he put down onto paper, to admit the truth of his bitter feelings; his intention was to present a copy of his finished work to the king and queen in appreciation for all they and their people had done for him. He could not hide his longings from them.
When at last one evening after an especially fine meal and a goblet of rich, red wine, he finally proffered his gift to them, their eyes saddened and they looked away from him. After a moment King Caliphim warmly thanked him for the slim volume and walked with him into a garden. There, under a bronze moon, they asked him a great favor. His realm, he said, remained a legend to the rest of the world, and he, his queen, and his people, wished it to remain so. Too honorable to compell him, either by force or harangue, to release his sole other copy to him, he simply stated that if others saw his book and knew the location of the isles, their peace and harmony would be disrupted forever. The Green Isles had chosen to live apart from the greater world; to learn to know each other, and to learn from each other also. Perhaps the future would bring their course to join with that of others, but for then they only wished only their peace and privacy. Both he and Allaria prayed much for a child, and they wanted her to know the Green Isles as they had. Only if it became her wish, someday the children of Daventry, and their parents, would walk the islands. But until then their resolve was firm And so it went, Derek assured the king and queen that he would retain his own slim copy as a keepsake of his time in their realm and guard it closely. He promised further that, when needed, he would do as he could to point attention away from the legendary Land of the Green Isles.
The two hugged him warmly, as if he were royality the same as they, and then summoned their ancient court sorcerer to attend them. It was their final gift to them. Derek bid Caliphim and Allaria a long and happy life, and wished the same for all their subjects and the daughter they hoped for. A spell was cast, and he awoke in a bower not far from the town of Serenia. Nearly a year after he begun his journey, he finally arived at his destination.
Some time later, Derek returned to the green hills of Daventry, his homeland, that he loved.
 Friendship with the Royal Family of Daventry
Almost two decades passed... Although its not clear when they first met, for some years it had been Derek Karlavaegen's fortune to be associated with the Royal House of Daventry; King Graham, Queen Valanice, and their children the princess Rosella and Prince Alexander. he had in fact known Prince Alexander almost from the moment of his return to the people of the Daventry from years of captivity in the house of the evil sorcerer Manannann. Derek was among the family and friends who held the Prince dear. Among them, Derek was proud to have Alexander hold him as his friend.
Shortly after Alexander's return from Llewdor, and Rosella rescuing her father, Derek caught up with Prince Alexander as he relaxed in Castle Daventry the home he had never known to conduct an interview. Their interview was conducted over several days and was interupted frequently by the queen's reports on the king's improving physical condition, and by their spontaneous hugs and tears. At these times of family emotion, Derek would withdraw discreetly; as some emotions demanded their privacy. As Alexander spoke to him, the story held him with its intensity. He edited the princes words somewhat for brevity and style.
Not long after the interview, a few months after Alexander's escape,while the rebuilding of Daventry was going on, Derek Karlavaegen travelled to Llewdor in order to get a better understanding of what the brave youth had been through. It was for that reason that he arrived at Manannan's abandoned house. The place was totally deserted, He found no evidence of the cat wizard. He found the house in good repair, but no person or animal was anyplace near, and he found no remains of dead animals (apparently even the chickens had escaped). Derek resolved to spend some days there, to use it as a base for his explorations around Llewdor. During the night he took advantage of Manannan's large library, looking closely through his books on magic and magical lore. The days stretched into weeks, and still no one came to claim the large house with its well-stocked underground laboratory.
Inside the house, Derek discovered the Eye Between the Worlds, on one of the shelves in Manannan's library. Derek Karlavaegen began to send messages and documents from the universe of Daventry to the Other World to the author Peter Spear. The court documents included many of his own written works as well as a few articles written by Daventry's stuffy old court chronicler, minister Gerwain, Alexander (A Magical Primer), Valanice, as well as other bits of information he pulled from articles, and his own research, interviews, and his own handdrawn maps of the period. Derek decided to give to his, unknown friend (Derek didn't know who he was in cantact with) in the Other World, a quick tour of the world of Daventry with his own words. He sent some of his own crude maps along with his communication to further illustrate his world--what there was of it. He also included a copy of Ten Days in Tamir---Vacation in Paradise and Fragments from The Sorcery of Old by unknown authors.
Derek had to be wary of the thugs and desperados that infect the forest of Llewdor. They still hid in their treehouse, from which they preyed on travelers. He began to start calling them the Brat Catpack. Dearing this time Alexander had given Derek some gold to give to the Bear family as payments for the prince's deeds (robbing them). Upon hearing the story of the prince's trials and adventures, they forgave him, and gladly took the offered gold.
A little over a year later, Derek Karlavaegen was invited by King Graham and his family to spend some time at the refurbished Castle Daventry with them, a few moons after their ordeals with the evil Wizard Mordack. They asked him to write and record, for all who might read, the quest of the King of Daventry to save his family and his castle. It was around this time that Cedric also visited the Wizard Crispin to get his side of the story as well. He also obtained some information from Alexander, that the prince had received from secret communications with Cassima, which concerned her time living with Mordack in his castle. He also pulled together as much information he could find on Serenia, and surrounding islands. Returning to his home in Llewdor, he uploaded the information to the Eye, along with new updated maps.
 Return to the Green Isles
Keeping his longtime promise to the king and queen of the Green Isles, Derek was forced to lie a few times in order to protect the truth of things. He at times claimed he never knew of Land of the Green Isles, said they never existed, and that he had thought it was a myth. He kept up this charade even after learning about Cassima. When he drew up maps of the world and sent them to people in Daventry and in the Other World, he would either leave it off the map entirely or put in it the wrong location so as to protect it from people who might try to visit it.
It wasn't until Alexander came to him in earnest about going after Cassima that he finally admitted it was real and gave Alexander its location. Alexander came to Derek Karlavaegens home (the house of the magician Manannan) to seek his help. While his ship was being prepared he had come to see if Derek had known anything about the land which was going. It was his great joy to be able to be of greater aid than perhaps Alexander had anticipated. For he gave Alexander his personal copy of the Guidebook to the Land of the Green Isles, of which only a small edition had been printed, but out of respect to the wishes of the Crown, the book had never been offered for sale or perusal. He felt a small glow of pride that at last his words would at last be read (and would ultimately save Alexander's life).
Several months passed, Derek and others heard no word of Alexander. The waiting preyed on Derek and the Royal Family. But through all that long wait, no matter the dire warnings of the doom-sayers who were certain the prince was lost forever, Derek and those who knew Alexander never despaired. At last their faith was rewarded. On momentous day, Derek had gathered with the Royal Family in Daventry for an unknown cause, when news came that Alexander was alive and well. With the genie Shamir's help Alexander's family was brought to Daventry, and at his prince's request, Derek too had been asked to become part of the celebration. He was given a room in the Castle of the Crown to stay, and given access to the castles libraries and archives. A few days before the wedding, Alexander came privately to him in the room he occuplied in the Palace of the Crown, tasking him write the chronicle of the events of Alexander's adventure before the celbration commenced to be put into the records of both kingdoms. Alexander left for him on his table vellum sheets with his scribbled notes. They discussed the story, lifting the first sheet of vellum and quickly scanned the crossed-out and written-over lines. Derek read over the notes, and admitted candidly that they needed a little work. Derek's hands itched to take hold of the threads of the Alexander's strange story and weave it into a strong and colorful shape. He promised Alexander that the chronicle would be ready to enter the royal archives on his wedding day. He began writing on the eve of the wedding, burning much lamp oil through the night. Derek made sure to include all of what Alexander felt, only ommiting what was was not known to him at the time (information was contained in other scrolls). He reconstructed events the best he could, drawing on the extensive library in the castle, and his own knowledge of the Land of the Green Isles. The next morning finishing the chronicle, keeping his word, Derek Karlavaegen was summoned to Alexander and Cassima's wedding. He handed the pages into the Royal Archivist of the Isle of the Crown, so that copies could be made, and then headed to the wedding.
As all the folk of Daventry, and the people and creatures of the Land of the Green Isles, still rejoiced and celebrated the joining of Prince Alexander and Princess Cassima, Derek bowed his head and apologized to those he had lied to about the existence to the islands in the past. The shame he held for having to lie, and also having had to breaking the trust to the former king and queen of the land. He wrote a letter, his "A Confession and Apologia" to the readers of both the Times of Daventry and Daventry People, in which he begged forgiveness to anyone he may have wronged. This he sent along with a copy of the chronicle for all to read, as well as his final updated maps.
 Final communication
Not long after, Derek came across a lengthy narration, more a romance than anything else, which was wildy popular among the readers of popular gossiping and literary trifles. It was an anonymous telling of a secret story concerning the queen and princess of Daventry and the dangers they faced during a kidnapping of Rosella by the false king of the trolls and her subsequent rescue. The story also relates that the princess was considering marriage to a prince who had spent his entire life, with the exception but a few days, ensorcelled into something other than himself, never knowing his true nature or identity.
Derek was cautiously skeptical about the veracity of the tale, thinking it more fancy than fact. More fiction than history as he knew it. Although Derek had been privileged to be close to King Alexander, his parents, and sister Rosella, he heard nothing of a possible marriage. Nothing for the princess. Nothing from her family. Nothing from their words, looks or the language of their bodies. He believed rumor or fabrication was all that was possible. The mass hope for another royal wedding, manifesting itself as true romance, was another conceivable explanation for the widespread and uncritical acceptance of the tale.
Derek knew Rosella to be impetuous, but she was no fool. He believed she would marry no man before her time, and that she knew near nothing of Edgar. He believed although Valanice was warm-hearted and full of kindness toward all, she would do anything to defend the life of her daughter. She would not be so easily swayed from her course of rescue in Etheria, as the tale may tale.
Yet, he believed it possible that the tale could be true; all is possible and the truth may have been hidden from him for reasons only the royal family knew. It was their right and their privalege, and Derek was but a loyal subject. But that somehow rang false to him.
Derek came up with another explanation, one which suited his own misgivings, and at the same time he believed brought the universes together (both Daventry and the Other World). He remembered that his world was always recreating itself. He also knew that a great dreamer in the other world created tales and fables from that which was Daventry's own reality, Daventry's own history. He believed that there may be another great dreamer now living within his world, who could dream of the fictions of the other universe, and was creating new realities and histories for his world. He believed the worlds were drawing together, they had already been fairly close to begin with. That both worlds dream each other. The other world was creating its own visions of his world, a different Daventry than his people inhabit. And now his people were dreaming of the version told in the Other World, and with that his world changed.
Later he put his thoughts down within a letter in which he discussed his shock and surprise at the story, and his disbelief. He included the various possibilities he had come up with. The possiblity that it was mere gossip. The possiblity that he could have been wrong, and finally his belief that his world was now changing because of great dreamer dreaming of the Other World's interpretation of his world. This letter along with the court chronicle that it related to, he sent to the Other World through the Eye Between the Worlds.
Last edited by BagginsKQ; 06/03/2012 at 06:57 pm.
|06/03/2012, 11:40 am||#6|
Join Date: Jan 2010
Location: Tulsa, OK, USA
|06/03/2012, 06:38 pm||#8|
Join Date: Feb 2011
Location: New York
In all seriousness, I don't consider Derek Kavalagenan (or whatever) to be any real part of King's Quest. Just some peripheral whimsy.
|06/03/2012, 06:47 pm||#9|
Join Date: Feb 2011
|06/03/2012, 06:53 pm||#10|
Yes, Fact, it is KQ8...
Join Date: Jun 2011
Great, one of those so-called "KQ fans", that ignore even the manuals to the games! And apparently KQ6 as well .
Almost as annoying as the so-called "KQ fans" that consider the fan games as 'canon', and ignore the official series...
I see Derek as no different than Gerwain in KQ2 manual (a character who isn't seen in the game), or how they gave Hagatha more importance in KQ2 manual as well. Not to mention Edward's wife in KQ1, or Dahlia, heh.
Last edited by BagginsKQ; 06/03/2012 at 07:05 pm.
|06/04/2012, 01:12 am||#11|
Join Date: Nov 2006
Location: Bay Area(Alameda), California
"Omae wa mō shindeiru"- Kenshiro Kasumi from Fist of the Northstar
|06/04/2012, 05:47 am||#12|
Join Date: Jan 2010
Location: Tulsa, OK, USA
Probably because he has no bearing on the actual games whatsoever.
|06/04/2012, 06:04 am||#13|
Join Date: Feb 2011
Getting radical. First Roberta's involvement in KQ is questioned/George Lucas-ized (IE that she had nothing to do with the series after II), now the KQ Companion is repudiated. Interesting.
|06/04/2012, 06:20 am||#14|
Yes, Fact, it is KQ8...
Join Date: Jun 2011
|06/04/2012, 06:35 am||#15|
Join Date: Jan 2010
Location: Tulsa, OK, USA
Last edited by Chyron8472; 06/04/2012 at 06:37 am.
|06/04/2012, 06:47 am||#16|
Yes, Fact, it is KQ8...
Join Date: Jun 2011
Ironic, considering that almost everything included in KQ is for purpose of whimsy... It is made up of a hodgepodge of random fairy tales, and myths thrown into a blender, don't you know?
Or Eriol/AElfwine, a British Saxon who was part of the original cover stories of Tolkien's Middle-Earth legenderium, as a kind of visitor to early versions of Middle-Earth who recorded what he saw, and then took it back England to tell others.
The released Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, and Adventures of Tom Bombadil modified this to be various writers (mainly hobbits, but perhaps others including input from the elves) adding to the Red Book of Westmarch, which was a tome of history and legends and poetry of the world.
There is also a sense that its in the style of the Pendragon Cycle by Stephen Lawhead as well, where each chapter was written by another character, from their perspective.
It's actually a classic literary device, for a 2nd Person narrative.
Last edited by BagginsKQ; 06/04/2012 at 06:54 am.
|06/04/2012, 12:14 pm||#17|
Join Date: Feb 2011
Location: New York
The eye to the other world? Where he talks directly to Peter Spear? That's Spear writing himself into the games.
The games are the games. Derek Wahtshisnutts is just a bit of outside fun, but he has no bearing on the games what-so-ever.
I don't consider the fan-games part of canon, either, just so we're clear. The whole character of Derek K. is just badly written fan-fiction that got sanctioned, and the KQ Companion, as lovely as it is, when it was produced was just another product to generate more KQ income.
When it comes to King's Quest, I pay attention to the games, and not the periphery. I don't consider Kingdom of Sorrow, See No Weevil or The Floating Castle to have any bearing on the games, either.
I don't need all kinds of information, back stories or nunsuch to let me enjoy the games. Some people dig it; I never give it a thought when I'm playing.
|06/04/2012, 12:29 pm||#18|
Yes, Fact, it is KQ8...
Join Date: Jun 2011
Ferryman (KQ6 script): "The island's currents keep us pretty isolated. I can only recall three visitors in my lifetime. When I was a boy a wanderer came, Alhazred himself arrived many years ago, and now you. We have almost no contact with the outside world, but we're content with our little kingdom. At least, we always were in the past."
Guidebook to the Land of the Green Isles
Herein lies the account of my travels in that mysterious kingdom known as the Land of the Green Isles. Lest this record be put down to the fevered imagination of a madman or the fiction of a notorious liar, let me assure you, dear Reader, that the Land of the Green Isles does indeed exist. One can hear the name of the Land whispered in roadside inns off dusty roads from the hills of Daventry to the sea of Tamir - especially on nights when the wind howls and the rain plays havoc on the window panes. The storytellers inevitably take on that same tone of voice they use when speaking of the Fairy Kingdom. I cannot vouch for the Fairy Kingdom since I have yet to get a leprechaun in a position of compromise, yet, the Land of the Green Isles... Ah...that is a place where the feet of a man can find solid ground and his eyes feast on such wonders!
My tale begins with a broken compass. I had taken passage on a ship bound east from Llewdor. Our destination was Serenia, yet in the second week out we encountered a terrible electrical storm. Waves crashed upon the deck of our little ship, the Round About, and lightning struck the sea all around her. At one point it even struck our secondary mast and we were saved from a fiery death only by the lashing rain which quickly put out the fire. We felt sure that we were all dead men, yet on we bailed and strove throughout the night. After long hours of terrifying labour, we found ourselves still afloat on the other side of the storm. At first light, the damage seemed minimal despite the lightning that had struck the ship, but by sunset the Captain was forced to announce that the instruments of navigation had been magnetized by the storm - the compass spoke east, yet the sun sank low over the right of our prow.
The Captain did his best to sail by older methods, by the sun and the stars. He assured the voyagers that there was nothing to fear. Yet we seemed cursed, for a dense cloud cover settled over the sky far into the horizon - and stayed. The Round About sailed like a blind man groping in a vast unfamiliar room.
After a week, the Captain had to admit that we had missed out destination. There was no land to be seen anywhere. It was as if the storm had been another flood that had wiped civilization from the face of the Earth. With naught else to do we sailed on, by now so lost that turning around seemed futile. Who was to say that we were not turned around already?
A month later, I lay in a fitful sleep on my bunk - throat parched and skin stretched from the scant provisions allotted all hands from the near-empty hold below - when I heard the cry on deck "Land Ho!" Startled from my sleep and exhilarated with hope, I sprang to the deck. The sky had cleared and its blue seemed a hue I had never seen. A sailor was wildly pointing off the prow where the bright green of a small body of land was dimly visible. The Round About responded as though leaping from the sea towards that remote shore.
Yet within the hour, the curse upon our ship took its final vengeance. As though enraged to see us within view of escape, the sea came alive and swirled around us. Currents and whirlpools materialized and sucked at the beaten planks of the ship - turning her first one way and then another! I was thrown against the deck and rolled uncontrollably against the cables and the lifeboats. The last thing I heard before my head was struck and blackness descended was the mate screaming "She's going Down!!!"
Who can judge providence? I am not a hero, I am a wanderer - neither as strong nor as brave as the Captain] of the good ship. Yet with no effort on my part - none greater, in any event, than the skill of getting myself knocked on the head - I awoke the following morning, not among the bones at the bottom of the sea, but on a beach. Of the crew and passengers of the good ship, there was not a trace.
Perhaps I was chosen for some destiny here. Perhaps the sea simply found me too sour an old dog for the swallowing. In any case, that is the tale of how I found the Land of the Green Isles, or should I say, how it found me. Being but a poor traveller with feet that itch and a spirit that cannot rest, I have naught to leave this world but a record of the things these eyes have seen. Being not nearly as clever as a ballader, I set this down in humble prose.
May this account someday find its way back to the land of my youth, though I fear I myself shall die on this distant shore.
 PART I The Land of the Green Isles
The land of the Green Isles is an ancient kingdom ruled by a royal family designated simply as the "Crown". Its location so far from the rest of the known world, combined with the dangers of the surrounding sea, have effectively isolated it from the influence of other lands. This small kingdom might as well exist on a distant star as on the other side of an inhospitable sea.
Because of this isolation, the citizens of the kingdom have a unique flavour and a quaint naivete. If one asks about the history of the Land, they are eager to speak. Yet of true answers, little can be found. They can recite the names of the holders of the Crown spanning back hundreds if years, can speak each dwelling's origin, of practically every citizen's lineage yet when I asked how the kingdom began, bewilderment is the response. "The kingdom has always been." they say, "There has always been a royal family." It is as if this place has existed, unaltered since the dawn of time.
But there is some basis for a different picture: that these islands have actually held a succession of kingdoms, each bleeding into the next, new civilizations building on ruins scarcely cold. I base this opinion on the traces and legends of an ancient civilization to be found on one of the islands--but more of that later.
The kingdom as it stands today, has remained relatively unchanged for hundreds of years. Fours islands make up the bulk of the Land. The Isle of the Crown is the centre of the kingdom. There on a magnificent rise stands the Castle of the Crown, the seat of the royal family of the kingdom and the heart of the Land. A village and docks comprise the rest of the island and run most of the kingdom's daily commerce, such as it is.
Across a short distance of sea is the Isle of Wonder, an aptly-named place of sheer delight ruled by a pair of rival queens who are, despite their own internal strife, unalterably loyal to the Crown.
The Isle of the Beast is the least hospitable of the islands. Seemingly deserted, I did not see much of the place since obstacles made it impossible to travel far inland. Nevertheless, the place has its own history and is listed among the kingdom's holdings.
The fourth island is the Isle of the Sacred Mountain, so called for the soaring peak that rises from the base of the island into the clouds, and around which that community--both literally and philosophically--is built. The Isle of the Sacred Mountain has its own rulers who are also subservient to the Crown.
A more dissimilar set cultures can scarce be imagined than those on these four islands, yet they seem to exist in harmony and function as a whole. The uniting factor is the Crown, which maintains loyalty both by means of its undisputed heritage as the seat of all government and by the grace of its goodly royal family.
Peace has reigned for centuries in this idyllic kingdom and seems likely to continue. That is, as long as the Land remains hidden from the evil that we know exists in the world. Though I am a stranger here, I hope not to influence this place overly much. Who would wish to change such a paradise?
 PART II The Isle of the Crown
Of the four islands, the Isle of the Crown is the one which will seem the most conventional to travellers from distant lands. It is largely inhabited by members of the human race, men and women of pleasant disposition and generous hospitality. As stated earlier, the Isle of the Crown is comprised of the Castle of the Crown, a quaint village, and the docks from which travel among the islands is commenced.
 The Village
The village on the Isle of the Crown is a small one. Its stucco walls gleam in the hot sun, its dirt paths are clean and well-maintained, its vegetation is lush. The shop merchants are friendly and seem to delight in unusual trades, Though little of mine survived the shipwreck, the few trinkets that I'd had on my person or managed to salvage from the shore were deemed unusual enough in that distant realm to obtain a few necessities. I also found the villagers eager too share what they had in return for honest work, so I have survived quite comfortably here.
Village life is one of cheerful routine. The villagers rise at first light to do their chores before the tropical sun reaches its peak. Then a light midday meal is served. The bulk of the afternoon is reserved for indoor activities:
Reading and scholastics for the younger population and naps for their elders. Everyone seems to prize this quiet time. When the sun goes down, communal activities are frequent. If there are no weddings or other festivities (I must admit that I am quite fond of these local celebrations), the families often gather informally for a plain but plentiful supper, music, and conversation.
Though most families are modest, none are in want. Servants are used in the more affluent households, but most of the citizens cheerfully rely on their own strong hands for the work of daily life. What serving class exists is generally well-treated, though even in this gentle civilization, I did note a few exceptions.
 The Docks
Beyond the village lie the docks, a place of bustle and excitement, Even the humblest citizen of the Isle of the Crown frequently enjoys visiting the other islands in the kingdom. In return, it is not uncommon to see all manner of strange creatures frequenting the village shops from the kingdom`s other islands.
All travel between the Islands is focused at the docks and, indeed at a single vessel, That vessel is simply called "the Ferry" and it is a pleasant enough little ship, well- maintained as befits its value to the kingdom. The ferryman is a jolly fellow, patient even with the youngest of his passengers. His young son helps manage the vessel and helps keep her shipshape.
The story of the ferry is an interesting one, particularly if you recall the fate of my own ship. The islands, it seems, have always been surrounded by terrible eddies and currents that make seagoing nearly impossible. The family that runs the ferry has done so for generations, each father passing on to his son the secret of the tricky navigation. Many believe that the ferryman`s family line has an uncanny instinct for the sea around the isles. It is said that they sail " by the blood in their veins". One thing is certain: I would not venture to sail a ship in these waters, so whatever the secrets of the ferryman`s family - thank the stars for it!
 The Castle of the Crown
The castle of the crown is a stunning palace, giving testimony to the skill of the kingdom`s architects and the richness of its treasury. The castle is a monument of marble, gold and precious gems, with tall arched ceilings and artistic fittings. I am told that it was built one hundred years ago by King Aliphid as a present to his bride, Queen Astar. The previous castle, also called the Castle of the Crown, was large and drafty and had been the seat of the royal family for over three hundred years. It is said that King Aliphid was cautious over his new brides fragile health and built the new palace with thick walls for protection from the high winds with cool hallways for respite from the blazing tropical sun.
The palace is made even more exotic by the race of guard dogs that serve and protect the palace. These wondrous creatures seem to combine the best qualities of canine and human. Speaking in gruff voices and armed with swords or pikes, the guard dogs are strong and intelligent, and have loyally served the crown through the centuries.
Despite my status as a stranger I was granted a visit with the reigning king and queen. Their openness and accessibility, added to the lack of drawbridges, moats, or battlements of any kind, make clear to me the innocence of this kingdom that had never known war or treachery. Had I been a viper in disguise, I would have been granted an intimate audience just as readily! As a citizen of the larger, more dangerous world, it made me feel a little nervous and honor bound not to betray such trust in me.
I met the king and queen in the castle's throne room. The throne room is a vast hall more ornate then anything these poor eyes have ever seen. Standing before the two thrones in that cavern of gold, it felt as though I stood before fabled Olympus itself. Yet, raising my eyes up slowly to those noble faces, I saw nothing of judgment in their eyes, nothing of disdain, indeed, their faces were full of kindness, welcome and kindness.
As for the rulers of this kingdom themselves, King Caliphim, though not a large man, has an air of strength and self assurance about him. He has the face of a scholar and the eyes of a gentle benefactor. Of Queen Allaria, his beautiful wife , my first impression was of hair the color of night and skin as pale as dawn. She smiled at me graciously and I could see the sadness there. For despite the glory of the palace around them, the halls seem to weigh on the couple with their emptiness. Having met the royal couple and recovered sufficently from my ordeal at sea, I began to feel right curious about the other islands in the kingdom, and so I put my itching feet in the care of the jolly ferryman.
 PART III The Isle of Wonder
Imagine a place where the very path beneath your feet might complain of your weight, and the trees purposely drop twigs on your head for the sheer merriment of it all, and you`ll have an idea of what it's like to be on the Isle of Wonder. The Isle of Wonder is a comma shaped body of land that might as well resemble a question mark, for confusion and astonishment are sure to be a lot of the unknowing visitor. The island is teeming with life. Vegetation is abundant as are the island's inhabitants. In fact, the two are frequently the one and the same. One can scarcely pick up a grain of sand on that shore without it demanding to be put back... and this instant, if you please. The history of this unusual island is an issue of fervent speculation. That it was an uninteresting deserted island until a wizard enchanted the whole place, bringing everything in it to life, and presented it to his daughter as a birthday present. Others say that the island was once a prison of a beautiful princess, held captive there by a powerful and jealous queen. The maiden was so fair that the very trees and stones themselves could not bear to hear her crying, and came to life to provide her companionship. Still another group claims that the Creator of the Universe simply got tired of serious business of life giving and decided to indulge his or her sense of humour. Whatever the origin, a more delightful spot could scarcely be imagined. But be warned those travellers who like to know, exactly what to expect from life would be well advised to go elsewhere. Whilst most of the islands inhabitants are friendly. some of the thornier natives are capable of being downright rude!, and all are quirky. Visitors are frequent on the Isle of Wonder for it offers a refreshing respite from the ho-hum of everyday life. Even the King and Queen enjoy a picnic or a stroll in the gardens, and they are on occasion to be found relaxing and passing the time of day with the island's natives.
The rulers of the Isle of Wonder are a pair of queens, rivals in every way, and most frequently to be found arguing over everything from the color of the sky to the consistency of potato hash. Despite their eccentricities, the Isle of Wonder, seems to run smoothly and be a flourishing part of the kingdom, providing many exports and lending the kingdom a lightheartedness to counter the more serious countrymen on the Isle of the Sacred Mountain.
 PART IV The Isle of the Sacred Mountain
City of the Winged Ones
The Isle of the Sacred Mountain, on first impression, appears to be nothing but a great wall of cliffs rising to the sky with no apparent means of scaling it. The visitor is soon met, however, by a pair of "greeters" of the Winged Ones race.
The Winged Ones are the inhabitants of the Isle of the Sacred Mountain. Towering to a height of six to seven feet, the Winged Ones are by far the most impressive creatures I have ever seen. Each one of them, male and female alike, is surpassingly beautiful. Their bodies are muscled and athletic and gleaming with health. From their broad backs mighty wings emerge like secondary limbs, strong and webbed, and covered with large white feathers. And when they spread those massive wings.. oh!... it is as if the sun itself is eclipsed.
Two of these creatures, the greeters, meet visitors at the base of the cliffs and so was I met. Gently, they took my arms and flew me upwards. Has there been a man who hasn't dreamed of flying? Are we all not Icarus in our heart of hearts? Imagine then, the thrill of that flight and the glory of the beings who rule the very air around us!
But as the saw warns, "Beauty is only skin deep." I was flown to the Winged Ones city, a strange and haunting place whose architecture combines the two overriding elements of this culture: aviation and the classical. The city seems built to exclude those poor creatures whose lot it is to crawl like insects upon the ground, for each edifice towers into the sky with no connection to the next or to the ground itself save by flight.
Thus completely dependent on the greeters to travel about the city or even leave, the visitor is humbled and loathe to much exploration. This appeared to me to be rather the intention, for the culture of the Winged Ones is a private one. On the Isle of Wonder I always felt welcome, despite the sometimes gruff nature of the inhabitants. They had a certain simplicity, an honesty about them. By contrast, although my reception with the Winged Ones was on the surface extremely polite, the formal words of welcome did not ring true. I sensed, in the eyes of that beauteous race, a disdain of common humanity, a haughtiness that made them suddenly irksome in their golden perfection in the eyes of this humble observer.
Despite this innate sense of superiority, the Winged Ones are valuable members of the kingdom and provide many important skills. Incredibly intelligent, the Winged Ones are master logicians and mathematicians, precise architects and planners. They disdain magic and the daintier arts, being far too logical for such goings on. Even the palace of the Winged Ones city has a sparseness, a sense of functionality that denotes their contempt for artistic ornamentation.
The Winged Ones culture is old, and they make frequent references to the "Ancient Ones," their forefathers, whose ruins and great works still abound on the island. The Isle of the Sacred Mountain is ruled by a lord and lady, who exist as monarchs on their own island but owe allegiance to the common Crown.
The name of the island derives from a lone peak which soars into the clouds beyond the city. There, in a cave, dwells the sacred Oracle, the philosophical head of the community. It is said that the Oracle is centuries old, ultimately wise and can read the future. She is consulted by the lord and lady on every facet of the city`s life, and even advises the king and queen. I, of course, did not meet the Oracle, and even most Winged Ones citizens regard her as an almost mythical being. The greatest honor any Winged Ones citizen might hope for in his or her long life is to be granted a meeting with the Oracle, for her cave is a place reserved for only the most worthy souls. Like many lofty ambitions, most of the Winged Ones never achieve this end.
I found myself fascinated by the Ancient Ones, for it was the only deep history apparent in the kingdom. From what I managed to learn from the close-mouthed Winged Ones themselves, and from the more readily available information to be found in the writings and from scholars on the Isle of the Crown. I put together the following picture of this bygone race. I include it among these records of the kingdom, for they are as much a presence in the Land as the current inhabitants.
 PART V The Ancient Ones
The Ancient Ones' culture inhabited the Isle of the Sacred Mountain perhaps as much as a thousand years ago. At that time, it is likely that there was no "kingdom" and that the Ancient Ones existed alone in the sea, since no similarly aged records exist on any other island.
The Ancient Ones had an advanced, mysterious culture. Their writings have been discovered on ancient tablets and scrolls buried beneath the current Winged Ones city, and in the ancient catacombs on the Isle of the Sacred Mountain. It is commonly believed that they possessed knowledge and mechanical acuity far surpassing anything that exists today. This belief is based on a few remaining artifacts such as their mysterious labyrinthine catacombs and the writings on the island`s cliffs. The artifacts of the Ancient Ones are fiercely guarded by the Winged Ones and are studied by scholars of that race who spend their whole lives trying to unravel their mysteries. What is known about them derives from these delicate and treasured written records.
The Ancient Ones were believers in the power of language. They were fond of saying, "A master of languages will soar" This, presumably refers to intellectual heights rather than physical ones, but who can say? It is also known that they were great lovers of symbols and had a complex theology which seemed to worship all things aerial, though only fragments of their belief system are understood today. The Ancient Ones gave meaning to every creature, every color, every element and mineral. In addition, they studied the emotional states of being. Every emotion, like every creature, color, and element, ranked high or low on their theological scale - the lowest being "base" or "primitive," the highest being "pure." At the top of this scale were the Sacred Four; the emotion "tranquility", the color "azure," the creature "caterpillar," and the element "air." The color azure and the element air are obvious allusions to the sky. Similarly, tranquility is reminiscent of the heavens above. The caterpillar is the one surprise. In their reasoning, however, it makes perfect sense. After all, there are birds aplenty in the skies, but what glory is it to fly when one is born with wings?. Is it not more glorious still to be born to crawl upon the ground and build one's own wings?
It is a matter of much debate whether or not the Ancient Ones themselves possessed the power of flight. Despite their theology, the remains of the Ancient Ones do not bear the wings that distinguish the Isle of the Sacred Mountain's current inhabitants. The Winged Ones firmly believe the Ancient Ones flew without wings, thus proving themselves superior even to the Winged Ones themselves. Some scholars on the Isle of the Crown, however, believe that the Ancient Ones could not fly, and that their obsessive interest in flight and their secret knowledge enabled them to created a winged race, the descendants of whom are the Winged Ones. Ah, but such things we will never know for certain, for true understanding was buried along with the last of that long-dead race.
I spent some time studying the language and culture of the Ancient Ones, and, in the interest of antiquity, I set forth here as much as is understood of their works.
 The Ancient Ones' Alphabet
The alphabet of the Ancient Ones consists of graphic symbols. It is clear that there language and ours share the same root, for their writings are directly translatable by simply replacing the appropriate letter of our alphabet for its corresponding symbol in theirs. It is probable that the Ancient Ones spoke in our language and used these symbols in their writings as a code for secrecy for for their ceremonial beauty. Or, perhaps, our own "letters" for the spoken language evolved as short-hand notations for the complex symbols used by the Ancient Ones. In any case, there are twenty-six primary symbols in their alphabet. There are other minor symbols, but those were used only for accent and as representations of complex philosophical ideals and are not included here.
In addition to their alphabetical functions, each symbol also represents an emotion, a color, a creature, and a natural or metaphysical element.
A This symbol represents harmony, the cat, the color sienna, and earth.
B This symbol represents sorrow, the albatross, the color charcoal-gray, and onyx.
C This symbol represents hope, the dove, the color pearl-gray, and opals.
D This symbol represents tranquility, the mouse, the color sable, and granite.
E This symbol represents irony, the whale, the color ochre, and paper.
F This symbol represents humility, the grasshopper, the color olive, and plants.
G This symbol represents purity, the unicorn, the color white, and air.
H This symbol represents rage, the shark, the color red, and fire.
I This symbol represents cowardice, the sheep, the color orange, and coal.
J This symbol represents honesty, the parrot, the color green, and emeralds.
K This symbol represents wisdom, the owl, the color brown, and wood.
L This symbol represents loneliness, the cricket, the color beige, and clay.
M This symbol represents romantic love, the swan, the color gold, and the element gold.
N This symbol represents hate, the crab, the color black, and ebony.
O This symbol represents joy, the dolphin, the color azure, and sapphires.
P This symbol represents fear, the rabbit, the color violet, and rubies.
Q This symbol represents faith, the caterpillar, the color turquoise, and the stone turquoise.
R This symbol represents grief, the jackal, the color silver, and the element silver.
S This symbol represents happiness, the dog, the color pink, and marble.
T This symbol represents perseverance, the tortoise, the color sea-green, and water.
U This symbol represents intuition, the serpent, the color royal-blue, and rain.
V This symbol represents foolishness, the monkey, the color yellow, and ivory.
W This symbol represents familial love, the horse, the color hazel, and leather.
X This symbol represents bravery, the lion, the color purple, and diamonds.
Y This symbol represents patience, the cow, the color amber, and pearls.
Z This symbol represents desire, the warthog, the color burgundy, and garnets.
 The Logic Cliffs
One of the most intriguing artifacts left by the Ancient Ones are the logic cliffs. The cliffs are so named from a series of riddles written on the face of the cliffs leading from the beach of the Isle of the Sacred Mountain to the Winged Ones city. Chiselled painstakingly into solid rock, the viewer must question what purpose the words serve. From the ancient scroll that references the cliffs, it can be determined that the riddles on the cliff were part of an elaborate mechanism designed to protect those who dwelt at the top the cliffs from undesirables that might arrive from the sea below. The mechanism may have served as some sort of calling device designed to alert those at the top of the cliffs that a brother required admittance, or perhaps led to secret chambers within the rock itself. Whatever the cliffs purpose was, it was obviously built to admit only those indoctrinated into the secrets of the Ancient Ones culture and for that reason is, alas, as yet unsolved by those who live today.
The following translations from the Cliffs of Logic scroll may help the reader understand the mystique that surrounds this artifact.
The first challenge "Only those pure of heart will be able to RISE the cliffs of logic"
The third challenge: "The Stones of Stealth, are associated with this riddle:
Four men standing in a row, Third from the left and down you go, The rest in order, move you on, The Youngest, the Oldest and the Second Son.
The fifth challenge: "Only those of the highest order may ASCEND the cliffs of logic"
Another remnant of the Ancient Ones culture, the catacombs, is tragically inaccessible to visitors today. The catacombs held the burial chambers of the Ancient Ones, and are said to be designed as a giant labyrinth. To protect their tombs from looters, the Ancient Ones built death traps into the catacombs and filled it with dead-end paths, maze-like corridors, and rooms where secret knowledge is needed to pass.
The Winged Ones were close to mastering the secrets of the catacombs some years ago, when a minotaur taking an instant liking to the dark funereal place, decided to take up residence. At first, the Kingdom attempted to regain the hostage artifact, but, between the dangers of the catacombs itself and the minotaur`s stealth and treachery, the losses became too grave to continue the struggle and the minotaur was left to his prize. Since then, the catacombs have been bolted shut. It is one of the great sorrows of the kingdom that each year the minotaur demands, and must be given, the living sacrifice of his choice lest he emerge from the catacombs and attack the city.
The catacombs are illustrative of the Ancient Ones obsessive interest in death. Indeed, it seems to be in the air in this part of the world, for the modern-day Green Islanders also have elaborate death traditions, as I will describe later. The catacombs were obviously a place of high reverence for the Ancient Ones, as a message on an ancient tablet that once adorned the doors to the catacombs shows:
Three roses laid upon the bower, A scythe for he who cuts the flower, A crown, a dove, most noble race! Thy bones make sacred this dread place.
 PART VI The Isle of the Beast
The Isle of the Beast, long ago, was called the Isle of the Forest. It was a place of woodlands, sparkling ponds, and prolific wildlife. It used as a playground favoured for jaunty hunts by the royal family and other local sportsmen, and for that reason was left uninhabited. The scenes of this treasure diversion on that beautiful island still decorate local tapestries and paintings.
One night, so the story goes, residents of the other islands could see magical lights around the Isle of the Forest. The next day the king, then King Aliphim, led his guards over to the island to investigate (and, of course, to hunt if all proved well). They found the island much changed. The forest had grown so dense overnight as to prove impenetrable save by a single path blocked by mysterious obstacles. And, most mysteriously of all the heart-rending cries of some mighty wild beast echoed on and on throughout the forest. It is said that several guards fell into madness immediately at the sound and that King Aliphim himself was haunted to the end of his days by the echo of those cries.
Since that time, the island has taken its new name and has remained impenetrable and undisturbed, in the midst of the kingdom`s teeming life.
 PART VII Legends and Myths of the Land of the Green Isles
Through long nights spent before the fire with my companions on the Isle of the Crown, I learned that the Green Islanders are famous story-weavers. To me, nothing speaks more of a people than the tales they tell, for they are woven with the fears, the hopes and the dreams of the culture. For your enlightenment and entertainment, I set forth some of the more interesting of these legends and myths here.
 Hidden Islands and Other Worlds
Every land has its tales of hidden places: lost caverns, underground treasure rooms, and secret kingdoms accessible only through some ancient oak tree. The Land of the Green Isles is no exception. Here, as might be imagined, the hidden places take the form of islands hidden in the mists and of what might lie beyond in the sea.
One popular tale seems to reflect the universal myths of harvest and planting. It is said that nearby exists a hidden island of priestly inhabitants who worship Mother Earth. These priests keep the weather and the tides in balance to insure safety from hurricanes and other forces of the sea and to plead continuance for the kingdom's bounty. It is said that these priests demand privacy above all and that they remain loyal to the Crown in exchange for secrecy. What a wonderfully conspiratorial tale!
The Green Islanders are also fond of saying that the impassable currents in the seas around the kingdom are there as a warning - to keep all ships from sailing further east. For it is believed that within a day's sail in that direction a ship strong enough and foolhardy enough to survive the tempest seas would encounter the edge of the world!
"What lies beyond the edge of the world," I asked "why, the next world." they replied, and with fearful glances at one another, quickly changed the subject.
 Death Traditions
Death fascinates men the world round, and there are as many philosophies about what comes after this life as there are, it seems, lives which end. I found the Green Islanders to all share a common belief, so strongly held as to seem to defy questioning.
The family of the deceased hold funeral ceremonies a few days after death to bid the soul of their loved a safe passage to the Realm of the Dead. The deceased is buried with the things he or she will need for the journey.
The Realm of the Dead is a place not of this world. There Death himself rules. Some call him the Lord of the Dead, others call him Samhain. Those souls who have died at peace with their lives are allowed to enter the Underworld and are placed in the Sea of Souls. In that safe repository, they are greeted by ultimate knowledge and are prepared for the next stage. Those souls, however who died with unresolved trauma in their human lives cannot enter the underworld but are consigned to wander endlessly on the surface of the Realm, chained there by their woes. Sometimes, their life`s problems will be resolved in the real world without them - justice meted out, or loved ones taken care of - and they are freed from their bonds and gratefully go below. More often, however, things are never resolved in the real world and the bonded souls, over time, become part of the mindless dead, roam the surface eternally, never to know peace or be allowed to move on. This belief system deeply affects the lives of the Green Islanders, and is, in my estimation, the root of their peaceful lives and their aversion for friction and infighting, greed and anxiety. Certainly as a man or woman approaches old age or infirmity, he or she strives to resolve any loose ends in their lives in preparation for the journey ahead.
In Daventry, the poor man's idea of a great tale involved a tradesman or poor farmer falling in with a fairy and thus gaining a fortune overnight. How many wild-eyed dreamers have spent their days searching out such instant prosperity instead of buckling down and taking the long road to that end? hah! It is a tale this wanderer has heard all too often!
Here in the Land of the Green Isles there are no fewer dreamers, but they speak not of fairies but of the djinn, or genies. A genie is an even greater temptation for the aspiring soul than ever a Daventry fairy, for a genie does not simply turn a one-time favour; however great, and then be done with it. No, a genie, like a faithful dog, belongs to its owner for life - or, that is, for however long the fortunate "master" might keep hold of the creatures lamp.
It seems every Green Islander knows the ins and outs of the djinn, though few have ever seen one. According to the stated "rules", each genie is immortal and each is permanently attached to a given lamp in which they might or might not be trapped for long centuries depending on the whims of their owner or fate. Once the lamp comes into the possession of a man or woman that person becomes the genie`s master and must be obeyed, Genies are very valuable creatures and can do a variety of tricks including transporting a man anywhere on earth, taking any shape the master might wish, and, of course, the ever-popular gathering of great treasures and wealth. A genie does have some limitations, however: it cannot cure ills, change the weather or bring back the dead. And a genie always has a weakness
A genie is also bound to its master in other ways. It is said that a genie is like a mirror; it only reflects its master`s will. If a master is evil minded and cruel, the genie will be also. If a master is generous and kind, so will be the genie.
One of the most popular genie stories is the following one about a genie named Mali Mellin.
 The Story of Mali Mellin
Mali Mellin was a genie with a terrible weakness for mistletoe berries (although the same are poisonous to humans). He had been trapped for a few thousand years in a crusty old lamp after being buried with his possessive master. One day a poor farmer uncovered the lamp while ploughing a field. The farmer, being ignorant took the lamp at once to his wife, and she, being no more intelligent than he cleaned the outside brusquely without ever opening the lid. The pair took the lamp to market to sell for a few pence.
The lamp was purchased by a antiquities dealer, who, being equally lazy, never bothered to open the thing. (this tale continues on in this manner, passing through a dozen or so hands, much to the increased hilarity of the local listeners who seem to find this the largest joke they have ever heard. But, to move on...) Finally the lamp was purchased by a poor maiden named Daltina, who desired only a little warmth and light for her ailing mother. Daltina took the lamp home and opened it at once in order to fill it with oil and a wick. But instead of dust, a cloud of smoke issued forth from the open lamp and Mali Mellin appeared. The girl was overcome with fear, but Mali Mellin finally persuaded the poor thing that she was in no danger, and, indeed, could now have anything she wished for. In the next few months, Daltina and her mother went from being poor, sickly outcasts, to being well to do. The poor house became a fine mansion and their garden blossomed. The girl, with the flush of prosperity in her cheeks, Mali Mellin, of course, was furnished with all the mistletoe berries he could eat. But on one thing, Daltina followed the advice of her mother, never tell anyone of the lamp, she warned, for we are but two lone women in the world and would be no match for those who would wish to steal our treasure. Several years passed this way, and Daltina was content. Every night Mali Mellin would ask her, "what more do you wish?" and Daltina would reply "nothing. I have all that I want." Then, one day, a procession rode through the village. Riding at the head was a prince, the most handsome man that the girl had every seen. That night, Mali Mellin asked "What more do you wish?" the girl was silent for a moment, thinking "who am I to wish such a thing?" and "he should marry a princess." But her heart, never before touched, clamoured too loudly for her to hear her own wisdom and so she whispered, "I wish for the prince." The next day the prince rode back to the village with haunted eyes. He had seen the girl in a dream and was sick with love. Within weeks, the two were married. But the prince was not as good as he appeared - he wanted things: more wealth, more land, more of everything. When he moaned about for these things, the girl felt pity in her love and would in secret go to her lamp and call forth Mali Mellin to achieve her loves desires. At first, the prince was amazed at his wife`s powers and intuition. After a time, however, the prince grew suspicious of his wife's seemingly magical abilities. One night, he lamented long about a certain gold sword he must have that hung in a nearby castle. He pretended to go to sleep, and heard Daltina slip out. In silence, he followed down a corridor to her mother's room and there spied upon her as she called Mali Mellin from the lamp and, offering it some pretty mistletoe, asked her boon. "Mali Mellin," Daltina said, "there is a sword of gold ten leagues from here. Have it delivered to my husband in the morning as a gift of tribute." To which, Mali Mellin replied, "yes, master." The next morning, a courier arrived with the sword, just as Mali Mellin had promised. "How marvellous," the prince thought, "to have a wife with such a powerful genie!" Then he thought "How much more marvellous to possess the genie myself!" And so that very night the prince waited until Daltina slept, then snuck into his mother-in-law's chambers and removed the lamp from the trunk as he had seen his wife do. Seized with excitement he hastened to his armoury and pulled the lid from the lamp. Mali Mellin appeared "yes master," the genie twittered, with a new malicious grin on its face. "You are MY genie now " said the prince " and shall do only as I wish" "of course master," said Mali Mellin, " but how about some mistletoe?"
The next day the girl awoke to find the prince in possession of the lamp. Despite her pleadings that she be allowed to control the dangerous creature, the prince refused to give it back. And oh what the prince did with that lamp! Whereas before the girl had indulged his desires conservatively, the prince with lamp knew no bounds. He kept Mali Mellin rushing to fulfil his wishes until the rooms of the castle were heaping with gold and jewels. His enemies lay slaughtered on the fields without provocation. Mali Mellin's wicked face now became like a demon`s in the land, a demon who stole and laid scourge to everything. Finally the girl could stand no more. The flame of her love for the prince was doused by bitter tears. One night, she drugged the prince`s wine and when he fell into a deep sleep, took the lamp from his grasp. She called forth the genie once more, and, sadly, had Mali Mellin carry the prince off to a distant and deserted land where he could trouble no-one ever again. With the prince gone and Mali Mellin back to his good-natured self, Daltina restored the broken land and reigned as a benign (if rather melancholy) queen for many years thereafter - reaping, always, a plentiful harvest of mistletoe.
 PART VIII Postscript
So concludes my records on the Land of the Green Isles. I have been well treated here and have become rich in friends, knowledge and in countless other blessings. Though I have found my spirit forlorn at times with my inability to travel on, I must admit that my feet have itched less here than anywhere else in this wide world. Still on occasion, I find my mind roving back to the green hills of Daventry. Perhaps, if my spirit at least is allowed to roam free, I`ve yet to see them soon.
To those who may someday follow in my footsteps, I say this; Be kind to this gentle land, be open-hearted to her whimsy and protect her, if you can, from the harsh winds which might wish to blow in from the sea to steal her soul. She is unlike any place I have ever seen and she has stolen my heart.
Last edited by BagginsKQ; 06/04/2012 at 12:34 pm.
|06/04/2012, 12:44 pm||#19|
Yes, Fact, it is KQ8...
Join Date: Jun 2011
In comparison we know Roberta had a large part of writing the Companions, and that Peter Spear and Roberta are friends. We also know that Sierra chose to hire 'eluki bes shahar' a professional novelist to do the KQ6 novelization (Peter Spear, Jane Jensen, and others were only the editors of that chapter).
You'd only dream to have the respect Peter Spear received from Roberta Williams, Ken Williams, Jane Jensen, John Williams, Lorelei Shannon, and Josh Mandel, and other King's Quest developers who chose to incorporate aspects of his work into the games and the game manuals...
References made in KQ5 script (see also KQ5 NES, which included an adapted script written by Roberta) and manual ("Cedric turned to stone", the "royal physicians looking over King Graham", etc), references made in KQ6, manual and the inhouse published KQ6 hintbook (Derek Karlavaegen, those royal physicians again, Lake Maylie, etc), references made in King's Questions (more than I'll list in this post), etc. Sierra's continued use of the product in the Kings' Quest collections material and Interaction Magazine... It had more importance than any 'fan fiction' story out there.
Btw, by definition of fan fiction, those are stories that are both amatuer, unlicensed (although may in some cases have a 'fan license' which should not be confused with a regular IP lisence used for monitary gain), unpublished and unsupported by the owners of the IP. The Companions a higher form/productt, as a form of 'professional fiction' (profic); a form of licensed published work, to be published and sold for monetary gain in most cases.
Now 'published profic' doesn't necessarily mean canon (as the number of Star Trek novels out there will confirm!), but it certain means they are a step above 'fan fic'. Not that Sierra defined a 'strict canon'. Hell the games themselves often contradict themselves in many places (details are ignored in later games, etc).
But Sierra certainly had a body of 'official published work' in both games and on paper, thus the opposite of 'fan fiction'. There is more in common with official 3rd party Telltale Games IP license and official published IP licensing for previously published books, than there is anything in common with any form of "fan fiction" (by definition).
Another important point to understand the difference between a profic and a fanfic... Is that the author who writes a profic, isn't necessarily a fan of the series they are hired to write novels for, but is being paid to write the book... Which is probably the case with the Boulevard novels. Boulevard earned the license and permissions, and then they just hired authors to fullfill the contract with Sierra for three book deal... This also appears to be the case with the use of 'eluki bes shahar' (Rosemary Edgehill) to write the KQ6 novel, as she had no previous experience with the KQ games when she was hired by Jane Jensen et al, to write the novel. Profic authors are basically "freelance" (some may know of the series they are writing, others may not. They may or may not be fans). Again which places them into something very different than a 'fan fic'.
Also keep in mind not all developers of the official KQ games, were necessarily "KQ fans", but may have been hired to work on the games. ...and through that they put their marks on the games, that doesn't necessarily make them 'fans' of the series. Which brings us back to a Telltale games comparison!
In comparison, you are a nobody!
Last edited by BagginsKQ; 06/04/2012 at 01:25 pm.
|Thread Tools||Search this Thread|