And in this age Karg Stonefist had a son, Brommir. Who grew to be a mighty hunter. Fast as the stag, strong as the bear, and fierce as the wolf. And he grew to a head taller then the men of his tribe and his father was proud. Brommir, upon coming of age, took his rite of passage. Though he would not hunt a boar, or bear, or other beast as the men of his tribe had done. For story told of a great white stag that dwelt deep in the forest, in the land of the elves. And hearing of this, Brommir proclaimed before his father and all his tribe that he would slay the creature and bring back its hide as a mighty trophy for his tribe. And so Brommir departed from his lands to the east, where story and truth mingled like dirt and leaf amongst the land of the elves.
Twice the moon had danced to its fullness in the night sky. And Brommir lamented as he began to see the tales of the great white stag were as whispers in the forest amongst the leaves and not something of flesh and blood.
It was then, when Brommir had all but given up hope, to return to his tribe in failure, that the winds lifted his sight to a distant hill. Between parted branches, and mist filled grasses that he saw what must be a dream; a stag, as tall as any bear, and as pure as the moon on its brightest night. The great white stag stood there before him, paling all that about it. Brommir taking his bow in hand, let flew his arrow at the beast. And the winds died. And the stag was lost to his sight.
Running swiftly there where which he had glimpsed that white dream he saw no trace of the creature. Had it all been his mind he thought and wondered as his time alone in the forest had been long indeed. Though, as he walked through the grass of the hill, a spot of bright red shown on his hand. Blood from the creature his arrow struck it must have been. And so Brommir went to sought the path left of red by his arrow. Down the hill, and to the thickest of the forest. Crossing a stream he entered a glade. A beautiful glade where all the ground was covered in the softest moss and the moon gleamed off the clear waters of the spring, which had birthed the stream to enter, like crystal in the brightest sun. And there beneath a mighty elm lay the great stag. What had been as bright as the moon had paled and almost gray now. And as he neared Brommir pulled his blade to claim the trophy he had so long sought alone in the forest.
Brommir nearing his claim froze, for what he saw next must have been a dream. For in all his years and understanding of beauty and beauty meant had not prepared his eyes for what he saw then. A maiden so fair of skin that pearls would be dull about her neck. Hair so pure of black that the night sky took envy. For she was the most beautiful sight Brommir had ever seen and his heart was hers in that moment. For no love would ever fill him as he was then.
And as he neared he saw the gleam of tears upon her cheek. For she wept over the stag and felt its pain. Full of remorse and shame Brommir came upon them with his knife and removed the arrow which he had struck the stag. And taking of the moss and herbs on him mended the wound. For his remorse was pure and the pelt of the stag did brighten, as it leapt but twice and was gone.
Alone now in the glade he begged the maiden’s forgiveness and pleaded for her not to cry for in all the world he wanted that more than all. Brommir wiping her tears she smiled for he had saved the stag of which he had hunted for so long. Forsaking his promise to bring its hide having seen her sorrow and only thinking of her beauty and the love in his heart he asked her name. Lyndalyn she replied. And lost in her eyes Brommir came for he did not know how long he gazed there and when next they spoke his shadow had moved full past him. And Lyndalyn heart became his for never before had she seen such a man. Who’s heart shown mercy for her sorrow and brought joy to her cheeks. And they loved each other more than all the world. For the sun had came and past and in the glade they remain, For time had no meaning to the love of Brommir and Lyndalyn.
And so Lyndalyn then brought Brommir to Tumen’nosta and before her father, Finrod, King of the Elves. Finrod, powerful and much like the mountain lion did glare upon the man his daughter had brought there. And his children, Castemyr, eldest and strongest of his children, Cyndimyr wisest and strong in the ways of the earth, and Landolyn the most clever and master of the ways of the sky, all cast their eyes down on this man. For they knew man and his never ending hunger. If man was left the woods the elves new that in short it would be bare of all creature so was the hunger of man.
And so Finrod cast Brommir out of the land of the elves. Though for the love of his daughter, Lyndalyn, spared him but one night of rest in Tumen’nosta fore lingering more would mean the casting out of his spirit. Though rest did not come for Brommir and Lyndalyn for all the night did Lyndalyn weep in the arms of Brommir.
When moon had past and sun did creep to show mountains lie, did Gaillynd, mother of Lyndalyn and Queen of the Elves come to her daughter. Her sorrow for her daughter ran deep, for how could she question the love her daughter shared with whom she wished if pure in heart her love be. Though Gaillynd knew that Finrod’s mind could not be changed and if her daughter’s love be true then away they must flee for to part love is to the parting of seas. So secret path, through river’s cave, to the north did Gaillynd show the lovers pair. And fore the sun did shown it fire over the mountain’s peak above Tumen’nosta, Brommir and Lyndalyn were gone.
Far to the north did Brommir and Lyndalyn go. Out of the forest and through mountains and marsh, through stone and jungle; till a lake vast came before them. And it was full of fish and the trees there bore much fruit and here they made their home together.
Though, Castemyr, eldest son of Finrod, brother of Lyndalyn, and Prince of the Elves pursued them. For when it was found that Lyndalyn had stole away with Brommir, Finrod grew angry. And so eldest amongst his children Castemyr had taken up the mantle to return Lyndalyn to Tumen’nosta. With the birds for his eyes and the winds his ears he hunted them. Moving ever closer to them in the north asa shadow towards the horizon in the late hours. For when he found them upon the shores of Lake Svantixen and saw them his rage could not be quelled.
Leaping at Brommir like a jungle cat, Castemyr drew his sword, Eldamar, and bore down on him. Brommir was no prey however and quickly took up his hammer, Brakk’ndour. Eldamar and Brakk’ndour rang out under the will of their masters. For the battle was long and fierce unlike any seen in an age. Till finally Brakk’ndour conceded and Eldamar shattered Brakk’ndour and cast his shards on the shores of Lake Svantixen. Then Castemyr brought Eldamar to Brommir’s side parting his ribs as he cut deep within his flesh. Being strong of not only mind but of body Brommir grasped Castemyr by the wrist that bore Eldamar and halted Eldamar from moving any further. Pulling forth his hunting blade for which he had used to spare the white stag, Brommir drove it through the chest of Castemyr and into his heart, stealing is breath, for Castemyr was no more. His spirit gone, Castemyr’s body fell to the ground. And as Eldamar retreated from the flesh of Brommir so did his life’s blood begin to pour as well.
Lyndalyn came upon him quickly, though having no skills of healing like Cyndimyr her efforts could do little to still the fading of Brommir’s eyes. And as they closed Lyndalyn wept. She wept a song so sad that the leaves of the trees took up her lament, and the birds quieted in mourning, as clouds darkened the sky as did all the world to Lyndalyn. And as Mornahg-Wir heard Lyndalyn’s song of woe, so too did his heart feel her pain. Coming forth from his home, Mount Vakatow, Mornahg-Wir came upon Lyndalyn and she wept. For Mornahg-Wir was larger than any tree, his head the size of the mightiest bear, his scales like steel, his feathers like daggers, though rang with a song of their own as he moved, and his eyes were as black as the night sky. But there in those pools of black shown a sadness for Lyndalyn that any father would have for his child.
And so Mornahg-Wir plucked from his own form, his heart, and gave it to Lyndalyn to save Brommir so she might still know happiness. Though Lyndalyn was told of its return to him in Mount Vakatow before the third passing of the sun; and Lyndalyn’s tears ceased, and Mornahg-Wir withdrew. For with haste did Lyndalyn come to Brommir with the Kornari. And as it’s light shown upon Brommir’s form his eyes opened and the light of the Kornari brought light back into those eyes. Lyndalyn overcame with joy took Brommir in her arms and held him close.
Though, sadness would strike them both as the body of Castemyr brought remorse to their hearts. So it was that Brommir and Lyndalyn decided to return to Tumen’nosta with the body of Castemyr to be taken care of in the way of the Elves.
Upon their return, seeing the body of his eldest son, Castemyr, Finrod became mad with grief, striking down Brommir, departing his spirit from his body. And Gaillynd wept, and so too did Cyndimyr and Landolyn weep. And Lyndalyn withdrew in sorrow and grief, closing herself from her family and all the world. And then too did Finrod weep.
For upon hearing of the death of his only son Brommir, Karg called upon all those that would follow the Chief of Man and war he brought to the Elves. And the battle raged for the breath of a lifetime. Casting the shadows of flame, and the blood brought by steel, to the whole of the forest. And the land suffered great scarring in the wake of the war of man and elf; from magic and of blade, of fire, and death. Then Landolyn was taken from the world by Hennas the Bear, Champion of Man. Still war raged. And so Hennas was slain by Cyndimyr. Still war raged. And Argindor, High Shaman of Man, slew Cyndimyr. And then the war was finally at an end. For when Finrod, King of the Elves was slain, so too did Karg Stonefist, the Chief of Man lay dead upon the leaves of the forest.
And in the reeling of the world after the war Argindor found Lyndalyn. Her spirit retreated to meet that of Brommir. And Argindor took the Kornari which Lyndalyn had failed to return, and vanished from the world.
And Gaillynd wept, being all that remained, she withdrew from world in her grief and sorrow, to spend her days in regret having aided Brommir and Lyndalyn’s flight. For in the days and years that followed the Great War, many men and elves would make claim to the mantle of lordship. And both were divided. And seeing all that had transpired Mornahg-Wir wept.